Walk the streets

“Where I see capitalism as a ball and chain to my creative expression, others may see it as a life-saving system through which they can support their families.”

I knew I
wouldn’t like Santiago. I heard it was a big city, just like any
other city. I’m not a huge fan of concrete jungles, where the trees
have been relegated to gaps between highways, and the mountain view
is distorted by smog. I only planned to stay here for 2 days but that
became 2 weeks due to the bureaucracy and wait times to get my
national ID card. Living the city life has been a roller-coaster of
mood swings, trying to fit in, and realising I don’t want to.

I have
taken this time to walk the streets, absorb the local culture, and
learn about the history of Chile. The buildings here, made from thick
brick and concrete are reminders of my home in Adelaide, where every
window and door is protected by thick security bars. Some homes have
historic charm with German influence — a tiled roof and decorative
window bars. Other houses could be mistaken for warehouses. Shops
have their carparks behind tall fences trimmed with spikes and
security cameras, resembling the car dealerships back home. The banks
here require you to scan your fingerprints for entry. These common
features are a side effect of the high rates of vandalism and theft
in this city.

But I do
not feel unsafe here. And what I previously
considered paranoia, I now feel is warranted awareness. For
example — covering the pin pad when using an eftpos machine, or
checking over my shoulder regularly when walking the streets, and
securing the zips on my backpack. Here, crime isn’t just possible,
it’s part of the scenery alongside the street art. The facades of
most buildings are painted with graffiti or street art, from small
tags by vandals to intricate artworks multi-stories high. Most
neighbourhoods are like walking through an art exhibition and I
become more appreciative of the subtle references the artists have
expressed in their work. Despite the number of cars I see whizzing
down the street, traffic jams don’t appear to be common. I’ve put
it down to the high number of one-way streets, which also makes
crossing the road easier.

Spotted around the city are shanty towns, or “Campamentos”, for the city’s poor populations. Amateur constructions of corrugated tin and plywood are situated across the street from a Porsche mechanic. The contrast of extremes is not lost on me. Though Chile is a developed country, the only one in Latin America, it has a high rate of poverty, arguably as high as 27%. And the income inequality gap is wider than that of the United States.

It’s not
all bad here, I can understand why people migrate to the Capital of
the richest country in Latin America. There is opportunity here for
work, with amenities and services often scarce across the borders. I
am told repeatedly that if I want to find a job it is hard to do so
outside of Santiago. But the hustle and bustle of a busy city does
not look like my version of success. That’s where I came from —
people living on top each other, and solitude is hard to find outside
of my home. That’s the price we pay to be surrounded by utilities,
telecommunications, and public transport. These conveniences and
comforts are only worthwhile installing where they can be profitable.
As such, the cost of living here is not much different to my home in
Adelaide.

My white privilege becomes apparent to me when I consider how Chile appears to me through the lens that Australia has given me, and compare it to the way a Brazilian or Venezuelan might view this adopted home. Where I think the security measures show that this country is unsafe, locals see the razor wire and military presence as a measure of safety. Where I see capitalism as a ball and chain to my creative expression, others may see it as a life-saving system through which they can support their families. But I know this is only the beginning for me — I’m sure I will come to see that Chile is not typical “South America”. On my journey I will see poverty and crime like I’ve never seen before. But I will remain open-minded to the cultural differences, as my goal is to learn about the Earth and all the beings inhabiting it.

About Me

Hi, I’m Sam, the adventurous introvert. I’m travelling off the beaten track to reflect on what’s around me, how it got to be that way, and visualise what it will become. I translate these thoughts into writing for my artistic expression. Sometimes it makes me sad, sometimes it make me mad, and other times I’m straight up weird! I invite you to consider the world around you and how you came to see it that way.